


Sweet Somberly Sayings

by rabble_dabble_writes



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Fluff, Love Poems, M/M, Poems, but john's a lil behind lmao, slowly falling in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:01:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26399107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabble_dabble_writes/pseuds/rabble_dabble_writes
Summary: John tries to work Karkat into a poem that would describe him best. It takes him a while to figure it out, but eventually, he gets there.
Relationships: John Egbert/Karkat Vantas
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19





	Sweet Somberly Sayings

If you could make Karkat into a poem, you think he'd be a pretty short one. Simple, and yet effectively to the point. 

_Yelling, grumbling, into my ear,_

_Concerningly gentle, you can always hear._

Of course, he's not thatbad. Honestly, you thought you'd have to coax more out of the guy, more often than not. Over Pesterchum, he almost seemed against every idea you had, whether it was in his interest or not. To be fair, you hadn't known him fairly well after that day, so you suppose it would have always had something to do with the fact that a screen was very capable of hiding what his face gave away. 

It's sort of easier to see the fragile lines of his face that way. 

And what you have learned, you've put to effective use! He'll go with you to the theaters if you promise to pay. He will not go to any fairs without threatening from Jade, but to get him into a better mood you can win him a stuffed prize he won't admit he's going to take home with him until it's late and you are too tired to make fun of him. The later it is in the day, the more energy he has, but also the greater chance he'll argue no to what you say. If you bring over cupcakes, he won't be as pissed at you for refusing to leave his house.

If you ask him something in a soft, low voice, he has trouble being grumbly against you. 

Really, you think you have it all figured out.

Besides, you think what you do is good for him. He needs it! If it was left up to him and Dave, he would _never_ leave his house. They even brought an alchemiter inside, which you thought was absolutely the worst idea ever because none of the food made from it is ever fresh. Shopping had been a near _nightmare_ to get Karkat to do, who decided to whine and be a child about the food you were trying to get for him, who only compromised when you promised you would come over to make it. They were _not_ going to be living off of ramen and Fruit Loops cereal for two months!! 

But it was worth it, you think, when you made spaghetti and he pushed an unnamed, empty plate towards you. Dave had absconded to go finish his show, so it left you with an empty seat right next to the fussy troll guy. 

_You can show me_

_How gently, and sweetly_

_You be._

_I promise I won't say a thing._

There isn't a downside about a friend like Karkat. His words were hot gushes of thick, bellowing air that cooled down under a trusted cold night's guide. Luckily, you happened to be a wind gushing expert! What he says is usually, rarely, ever an actually hurtful insult. And when it does hurt, you only take it at face value. You have to remind yourself a lot that Karkat isn't fragile, but the thin lines etched into his worried grey face are for a reason. He thinks he's special enough that reality hates him and he deserves to be hurt. You think he's special, he has so much care and good intention in his troll heart that it's almost sad he doesn't seem to get that he deserves to be happy.

It makes you think a lot, too.

_Demanding of a world,_

_Just make the world you and me-_

You sometimes don't do something right, or say something in the right way. You say what you're thinking about, or whatever you think you need to be thinking about, but your mouth has lagged behind your brain and you've already thought too far ahead for it to catch up. So it ends up being a mess you make. Sometimes, you hurt your friends by what you say or do. Sometimes, you end up hurting yourself.

_-I'll say I'm so very sorry._

It's not like you to feel so sad. You guess it's expected, really, and sometimes it's supposed to happen, but it catches you off guard by _how_ sad you are. And if you think too long, you start believing yourself about all of the bad lines that run in your head like code. As if they were meant to be there, meant to hurt you, and worse, you put them there in the first place. You think your Dad wouldn't approve of all the things you think of, but that just adds to the list that makes you feel worse than when it started. And, sadly, he isn't here to make it stop. 

So you don't expect it when, mistakenly, you end up going through a few days alone, and on day three there's a loud barbaric knock at your front door. You don't know who to expect, and it certainly hadn't been an angry Karkat in his pajamas ranting about how you haven't been responding to his messages. 

He yells at you until you feel guilty enough to take a shower. When you come back downstairs, he's ignoring your red puffy eyes and shoves leftover chinese into your hands. He sits on your couch with crossed arms, a stern grump face, and bed hair. 

You share the noodles with him. 

_A penny for your time, a penny for your mind,_

_I only have five cents to spare._

_"Shut your flubbering human protein chute, John,_

_I'm your friend; you don't need to worry about if I care."_

He's totally your best friend.

Not that Dave isn't! Or Rose, or Jade! You've known them a _lot_ longer than Karkat, to be fair. And Karkat had just been the annoying troll all your life who you never thought to make friends with until the game. It wasn't until it was so _funny_ at how hard he tried to seem important and demanding of attention that you got he really wasn't the sort of guy to be, well, mean. 

But, except Jade, you happened to meet them all in person at the same time. So it was fair game there.

But Karkat feels different, too. With your other friends, it’s jokes and poking fun at each other and dealing with your ridiculous friendship together. With Karkat, it's exactly like that, except he thinks you've somehow tricked him into a friendship. Which, fair, you did, but it's not like he's complaining. Too much. 

You feel a type of comfort different from your friends. A sort of feeling akin to a buzz or a fresh breath that you can't quite seem to understand. With them, you could probably have a lot of fun on a sunny warm day, hanging out together. With Karkat, you don't have to do too much except lie in the grass with him quietly, watching the stars, and maybe seek out his hand because the sky had always seemed so big but the stars now made you feel so small. And you guess he could understand that too. 

So how do you describe all of the ways he enlightens you? You just don't know! He is a tune that you just cannot sing right, a wordless lullaby that happens to start keeping you up at night. You hum and hum and hum, and he tells you to _Shut up with that vibration_ that only makes you want to sing along with his declaration of _fuckass_. He seems to be beyond a comparison of simple tunes, because there's a deep wallow in him, but you also know he is gentle and akin to a glass window. Knowingly breakable, but surrounded by the sturdiness of a stubborn wall. He is the feeling you get when you walk and smell nostalgia. He is the cooling sunsetting breeze after a long day of dry humidity. He is the taste of cheap microwaved food cooked just right enough to be good. He is the feeling you get when you find an intruding small critter inside your house and you capture it to let it go. He is-

_Light, airy, scary,_

_Heart pounding at your thought._

_Smile and you fill me entirely_

_Have I come to know, doubtedly,_

_And I think I see it finally…_

You don't understand it. 

You think you might be sick. Because, how is it that you get queasy knowing Karkat's at home? How is it possible that, in his presence, you feel as if you suddenly understand nothing at all? Why do you tick and tap at things until you finally see him again? It's making you worried. You don't understand why you suddenly have to be by his side. Except, that's bad too, because there's no _suddenly_. It's more as a realization. As an _oh_ , the soft click when something is thought of just right. And now, you don't feel the usual brain tugging thoughts of wanting to hang out with your friends. Really, this has turned into a _need_. You _need_ Karkat, either by your side, or talking to you, or him letting you quietly hold his hand again as you walk in the dark, cloudy night. Your brain can't go a second without knowing how he's feeling, or what he's doing today, or what he wants to do today. 

You think he feels the same.

You talk a lot of crap between each other, but something that gets to you is how genuine he can be sometimes. He's somehow figured out that you can get ticked off by something he words right. He complimented your eyes, once or twice, and now you look extra long in the mirror as if you could possibly find the thing he's really looking at. He informed you about a funny face you do when you're surprised, and that surprised you enough to make him laugh at you and point it out. He didn't pull away, during one movie session, when you moved your hand to wrap on his shoulder but brushed against his neck instead and elicited a small gasp that made you think about it for four days. 

He does something to you that you don't understand. 

_Transformation_

_How come I see you with clarity_

_How my heart goes abound_

_Do you know what you do to me_

_Do I think I know this is_

_Is this-_

Or maybe you do. Or maybe you don't really have to.

Comfort settles in after panic. Your friends, less oblivious than him, notice. You don't know what to tell them, except, obviously, what you think about him. How, all the time, you just _cannot_ deal with the idea of not thinking about him. It's really _annoying_ , actually, almost like a prank he made to mess with you for stealing his snack stash. Or maybe making him watch Armagedom with you. You haven't quite figured it out yet. You don't fully understand why your face flushes so often, or how you start spacing out thinking about him while sitting next to him, or how giving him a hug makes your stomach flip and land a 10, 10, 8.5 on a gymnastics score. Why you curl up in bed at night, thinking of his voice. You had never noticed it giving you shivers before. 

But, the funny thing is, you see him getting confused too. He laughed at one of your jokes, once, smiling wide and deeply chuckling before his face contorted into surprise. Sometimes he pulls you into hugs, before trapping you on the couch in an embrace for a startling amount of time, before kicking you out of his house with a grumble. One time, when he ordered for the two of you at some old restaurant, he forgot to get two shakes so you had to pass it back and forth before he groaned and stuck another straw in. He also stole your fries, and made a smirking face at you that you were too distracted for by the time he got around to stealing the rest of your burger too. 

You're starting to get used to the idea of thinking about him. Sitting next to him, you find yourself content. Talking to him, you find yourself aghast with a strong yearning. He looks at you with dark, red filling eyes, talks to you with a grumbly, scratchy low toned voice, and makes you flush when he says _numbnuts_ with an endearing tone. 

So you don't mind anymore when he goes to hold your hand. Or when he talks into your ear all night long, way past the movie marathon, and decides to stay the night. You don't mind how he looks when you're up and making lunch, and he looks over with keenly interested eyes from the doorway, and you present him with a prepared plate of ham n' mayo. Which, he compliments you by stealing pieces off of your own. You don't find yourself caring all that much, though? You have a bag of Lay chips, original flavor, and also you are more than okay with the idea of sort of doing this forever. That stomach lighting, bubbly smooth hot drink of whatever this is. Because, you're more than okay with it. 

_Hey, hey, I think you are.._

_Hey, hey, I think we are.._

_Hey, hey, I think I am.._

Karkat as a poem got complicated. But, you also think you might have the words to explain it all now. 

You tell him about the poem idea you had, once. He tells you that you're an idiot, but he's trying to hide his grin from you too. You tackle him into a wrestling match you end up losing, cheating because he tickled you. 

He sits on top of you, laughing at your stupidity while holding your arms above your head. You breathlessly breathe out all the ideas you had for his poem, and then his mouth is on yours to give you butterflies. 

You kiss him back hard.

_You make me feel like love, love, love-_

_Love, love, love-_

_You make me feel like love, love, love-_

_I think I am in love-!_


End file.
